


Idiomatic

by redlineredout



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlineredout/pseuds/redlineredout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idiomatic

The front door flew open, bounced off the wall, and drifted shut with a mournful whine. 

"Did someone bother you again?"

The relatively cooler air of the house only did so much to calm Nero down. He threw himself onto the couch and immediately pretended to be engrossed in maintaining his sword. The Red Queen had never failed him, and he owed that to obsessive maintenance of her engine and throttle. She certainly deserved to be attended to after the mess she'd gotten him out of today. Besides, maybe if he looked like he was concentrating hard enough, acted like he didn't hear Kyrie's soft voice, he wouldn't have to answer.

She had to know she was right. She always knew what he was thinking.

"Nero." Her approach was guarded. "You're a mess. What happened?"

He glanced down at himself.

He guessed he could see what she was talking about. The knee of his jeans was torn open, and his shirt, speckled with fresh blood, had definitely seen better days. No wonder Kyrie looked so worried.

"I didn't mean your clothes. You look like something's really troubling you."

"Just the usual," Nero dismissed. "People around here have really short memories."

"Maybe if you let them get to know you..."

"It isn't gonna make a difference, Kyrie. I might as well be just another demon to them. It doesn't matter how safe I keep the city."

Kyrie sat next to him, carefully smoothing her dress down over her knees. "It matters." She offered his questioning look a smile. "It matters to you."

Nero set aside the Red Queen and wiped his grimy hands on his jeans. That was his Kyrie. She always knew just what to say. He made a playful, impulsive grab for her.

His fingers went through her knee, swiped the edge of the couch.

"Kyrie," he murmured, horrified.

"Yes?" Her voice was sweet. Her warm brown eyes held nothing but love.

Her knee was thin fucking air.


End file.
